


i don’t cook, i don’t clean (but let me tell you how i got this ring)

by dankobah



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (Not Reylo), Disney, Disney Theme Parks, Established Relationship, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Oral Sex, This Was Supposed To Be A One Shot, Weddings, fashion - Freeform, im sorry in advance, referenced cheating, ridiculously detailed descriptions of wedding planning, watch the author hyperfixate live
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankobah/pseuds/dankobah
Summary: “I want to bring a girl like you to beautiful places, and wide open spaces.”Rey stares at the ocean, at the California coastline she’s grown to love and adore in such a short time she’s been.Ben walks closer to her, in basic black board shorts and a killer physique that makes her salivate.  He works hard for that body, for them to live like royalty.She takes his hand and whispers, “So let me be your happy ending.”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 14
Kudos: 49





	i don’t cook, i don’t clean (but let me tell you how i got this ring)

**Author's Note:**

> tags  
> cheating (rey is cheated on)  
> rey has past partners, so does ben  
> weddings  
> alcohol consumption  
> Disney  
> jealousy???? They lightweight fight  
> cursing  
> Palpatine is dead lmao, he was murdered (not by either)

“I really think Tiffany Blue is tacky for our purposes.”

The fabric swatches sit in front of them, an entire ring of fabric squares in rainbows of color. They sit in monochromatic groups, and they’ve been sitting on the blues for about an hour now. 

Ben is studying the swatches with his trained eye, while Rey reaches to the porcelain blue china teapot and pours more into the matching cup. Then she plucks the little spout of milk up off the table, dumping in a heavy amount. She likes her tea bitter, but with a creamy edge. 

He eyes her and she realizes she suddenly needs to have an opinion, given it's her checkbook. Or maybe it’s his, she cannot remember what she’s been asked to pay for. He even laid down his black card for the dresses, no questions asked and sight unseen. 

How Rey met Ben is actually quite scandalous to the general public. You see, Ben is a wedding planner for the rich and famous. He lives the lifestyle, fast cars and sharp suits, a beautifully curated penthouse in Soho. He’s got everything a woman could want, the only problem being he was _sworn off_ on weddings. Didn’t want one, didn’t want to plan his own, and certainly didn’t want to be with someone long enough to have one.

Until Rey came into his office with husband number four, Kazuda, and apparently rocked his world. 

Kazuda wasn’t right for her. That much was obvious when Rey much preferred the company of her big and brawny wedding planner, who would gladly pour her a scotch whiskey if she asked for it and make the decision for her. She took him to her dress hunting appointments (all six for that wedding, maybe the indecision on the dress reflected the trepidation with her freeloader partner at the time). 

The ceremony and reception were coastal, held at the Hamptons and the ceremony in the sand. It rained all day, a fucking omen probably for Rey waddling into the bathroom during the reception, in her big ball gown and seeing her new husband deep inside her bridesmaid, Torra. That had been a shitshow at the reception, screaming and shouting and Ben yanking her out of the room while she ran to assault either one of them. 

* * *

_“Let me go!”_

_She’s being lifted over Ben’s shoulder, ball gown and all, as she kicks her electric blue Louboutin clad feet. Ben had insisted on fun shoes, maybe to make her feel better about the day that had just been feeling worse and worse on her psyche._

_Ben is marching her through the hallway, past whispering guests as she shrieks and screams, “That cheating bastard! I’ll fucking slit his god damn throat! I want him dead! Dead!” There’s the Palpatine fighting spirit rearing its head, thrumming hot in her veins and smacking her upside the head until she’s senseless. Literally, she can barely see or smell, or taste anything but metallic hot anger on a liquor soaked tongue._

_They make it to her bridal suite and Ben all but dumps her on the couch. She tries to scramble up but he holds her down by the shoulder as Rose, her maid of honor, files into the room. Tears fill Rey’s eyes, threatening to spill over as she still struggles in his hold._

_She manages to spit, “Get me my lawyer. He’s a guest downstairs.”_

_Ben clicks his tongue, “We’re going to wait until you can breathe.”_

_She shrieks, “I’m fucking breathing, Ben! I just walked in on the man I love fucking a god damn bridesmaid!”_

_Ben stares down at her. He’s in a basic black suit, trying not to stand out as the man running the entire show._

_Then he asks, in the tense silence, “Did you love him?”_

_That throws a baseball bat straight at her head, barely giving her time to verbally duck with a, “What?”_

_“You didn’t love him, Rey. Not by the end of this. At least you didn’t act so. Don’t get me started on his negligence.” If he wasn’t bigger than her, she’d have pounced and ripped his throat out._

_“You think I’m some little fucking girl who plays with men like toys? Fuck you!”_

_He defends, “Not at all! You’re a smart woman, who knows when someone isn’t right anymore. Right? You can agree with that?”_

_She spits, “You’re trying to make me feel better.”_

_“Why wouldn’t I? I consider you...worth it to try to cheer up.”_

_Rey reaches up and feels tears on her cheeks, rubbing to the side. She sniffles, struggling to breathe or speak. The infidelity is hitting and drowning her and she can’t help but crumple into herself and begin to sob loudly into her hands._

_The black mascara drips through the cracks of her fingers and onto her ball gown._

_“Get her lawyer. Let’s try to get this done as soon as possible.”_

* * *

The annulment was quick, only two days. Kazuda had recognized he had screwed the pooch badly, and wasn’t going to fight for any money or even to reverse the motion. Her wedding’s drama was in the papers, including a video of her getting carried off and unintelligibly screaming. 

Rose moved into the Palpatine family home, a colossal mansion in the Upper East Side that Rey inherited, for a brief few months. Rey always had a difficult time transitioning after a divorce, trying to accept single girl life with open arms.

The thing is...beautiful things stayed. Like Ben. He stuck around, more as a supportive friend and someone to help her out with all the messy parts of the annulment. Like collecting Kazuda’s car that Rey bought and paid for, Rey exhausted from having to do it the last three divorces she’d had. 

Ben was just a constant person she could rely on to brunch with, to get drunk at a bar with, to act like her boyfriend when men came too close. That last factor led to her favorite moments: his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his body, holding her gin and tonic to her lips, and occasionally ghosting his lips so close to her ear and saying nothing but gibberish to make her giggle. 

Rey craved those touches when falling asleep, holding a pillow tight to her torso and wishing on the stars she couldn’t see from her window. Only city lights, quiet New York streets would greet her, the only celestial body in the sky being a moon she could see from her roof.

She wondered, often, if Ben looked at the same moon as her.

Rey knows she has to give an opinion on the color of napkins at their nuptials, and she knows she needs to get out of the clouds. Their love story just makes her feel ethereal, light beaming into her stressed eyes. “Wouldn’t that blue look like a gender reveal with the blush?”

Rey then sips from her cup and Ben sits back in the dining chair. He rubs his chin, “I do want blush.”

She brings up, “Wouldn’t one of my dresses being blush look tacky with that blush?” 

He says, “Not if we match it to the dress. It could look very monochromatic if we went a few ticks lighter with it too.” His design eye is much better than hers, given that Rey lived in shitty foster homes until sixteen. It had been cigarette burned curtains, faded floral couches, and carpet that reeked mildew. Ben seems used to his opulence, lazing in the status like a king unwilling to move from a crumbling throne. If you squint, Ben might even be white knuckling his self made money. 

“You know, this is your wedding too.” 

She glances up from her tea and there’s a mildly concerned look, that he reserves only for her, flitting across his features. It’s the same look he gave her the day she got too drunk and spilled her guts about how she “had a crush on him”.

* * *

_The underground speakeasy is bumping tonight, old-timey music playing over the speakers and low lighting bathing them in intimacy._

_This is Rey’s last bar, and she’s drunk and sticking to the leather of the booth and leaning against the red velvet wall. Raucous laughter flutters out of her mouth as Ben struggles to balance a spoon on the beak that is his nose. “You’ve nearly got it.”_

_It drops to clatter on the table again and she claps her hands. “Fucking damn it. I need another.”_

_Rey nods, trying to posture and lift her body. “Me too.”_

_“Absolutely not. I’ll be back, darling.”_

**_Darling_ ** _._

_It sends a live wire to her hand and it reaches out and grabs his forearm before he can walk away from her. What if he leaves her? What if this is the moment some leggy blonde, totally his type, steps up to the bar and challenges Ben Solo and changes his life?_

_Rey needs to stop being a pussy. Their eyes connect as he looks back at her, and Rey yanks him even closer as she scrambles up on her knees in the booth, like a hyperactive little kid. He leans down close to her lips, getting the message that she needs to speak to him._

_“Ben?”_

_He murmurs, like it’s just them, “Yeah?”_

_It takes a lot to say but she manages to get out, “I have a...big crush on you.”_

_There’s a pause and she’s afraid. She’s afraid he won’t feel the same and she won’t get another chance at a happy ending._

_“I really like you too.” He gets down at her level, looking her in the eye. He’s concerned as he says it, and that makes her feel good._

_He means it._

_She doesn’t know how she knows but it’s a sucker punch to the gut and the allowance that she needs to hope._

* * *

Rey looks at the swatches. Then she looks out his window, on the New York skyline. “I like and trust your beautiful design driven brain.” 

Ben sighs and says, “I still want you to get whatever you desire.” 

That’s so admirable that it takes her breath a little. She bites her lip and thinks hard about what kind of wedding she hasn’t had yet. Her ultimate dream wedding, so to speak. 

She has it, “I want to feel like a princess, blush will make me feel like a princess.”

Ben smiles a soft grin, before nodding. He flips to the pale blush swatches, all six of them, looking through with a big bear-like grip that could break anything delicate.

He didn’t break her body their first night together, though he came close.

* * *

_Tossing the keys in the bowl, she brushes a stray strand of hair out of her face as they enter into her home. It’s a home full of ghosts, of bad energy that has most spiritual cleansers running for the hills._

_Rey rather likes the thrum of energy here, when she’s not exhausted. This house has never been her home, but something tells her not to sell it. It’s her only connection to Palpatine after all, sleeping in the same master bedroom with just a different bed (because sleeping in the bed he was killed in would’ve been tacky)._

_She turns around and faces Ben. He’s been here plenty, just never upstairs. That’s off limits to day guests due to security, but if Ben wanted to steal something then she would gladly let him at this rate._

_It’s after their third official date, his suit jacket over her shoulders and shielding the tight red cocktail dress from the chill. His dress shirt is black as the midnight outside, crumpled from the Broadway theater seats it had been crinkled up against. Their Louboutins match only in brand, worn without consulting one another and a pleasant surprise upon getting out of her hired car and seeing him in front of the Hudson. He was in black oxfords, and she in nude Apostrophy pumps._

_“There’s a stocked bar and sitting room upstairs. If you’d like to join me.”_

_Ben nods, and she twirls around and practically flounces up the grand staircase that she somehow owns. The decor is so not her, Italian marbles and stucco walls resembling a Mediterranean palace by a non-Mediterranean man’s design. She prefers clean, unlike the desert that used to kick sand into her precious eyes. She prefers color too, rich bright fabrics and patterns galore that may look tacky to people who prefer a modern edge. Rey wants texture, drama, something to talk about in a throw pillow._

_Ben follows her up the stairs, slowly as not to spook her. They make it to the next level, entering into a large media and family room. The television is a projector, put in at her request. There’s even a popcorn machine, but her sights are set on the bar._

_“Whiskey? I have the basics.”_

_“No Jack, I beg of you.” Ben’s taste is prissy, given Rey would drink Jack straight from the bottle at seventeen, trying to impress the other guys in the garage._

_She picks up a bottle and reads off the label she’s found comfort in the past few nights. “Johnnie Walker, Black.”_

_He views her, hands on his hips, before eventually shrugging. “I’ll take it. On the rocks.”_

_Lucky for him (and her, if she’s being honest about her drinking habits), she has custom molded ice in the mini fridge’s freezer. Depositing two ice-molded Palpatine crests into two crystalline tumblers, she dumps the whiskey to a tip of the crest. It’s an overpour, but she can’t be trusted to pour not lethal drinks at only twenty-four._

_She slides the glass to Ben, who takes it gingerly. Holding it out to her, she instinctively clinks. Ben sips, and he doesn’t make a face like she assumes she doesn’t._

_He allows, “Not bad.” She loops around from the bar, her eyes then flitting to the projector before gazing down the dark hallway where her cavernous bedroom lies. It’s no stranger to men, that’s for sure. Four husbands have slept in the bed before him, and many other suitors that haven’t hit the mark._

_He sips again and she huffs to herself. “My feet hurt.” Maybe it’s a dumb departure from the task at hand but Rey is about to blast off like a rocket if she keeps thinking about his body on top of hers. Or even she sitting atop him, more of a preferred position for her because she feels like she’s taking what’s hers._

_Ben looks at her feet as well, before his hand reaches to hold the swell of her hip beneath the blazer. His grip is firm, pressing into bone in a way that edges discomfort but doesn’t come close to touching it at the same time. He steps up closer, peering down at her and studying her._

_“Don’t be shy. I’ll take very good care of you.”_

* * *

And he did. From smashing his lips into hers to sinking inside of her, it was done with an edge of care and simultaneous roughness that made her head spin. His cock became addictive for her, unable to sit through morning brunch without picturing his thickness between either set of lips. 

Ben is good in the sack, and that’s wholly unfair for the line of past men in her life to roll over in their graves to. 

She finishes her tea as he looks up from the swatches. “Wish we had your dress here to compare.”

She bites her lip, “Me too. Unfortunately we can’t have such a thing.”

Ben nods, and he sets down the fabric swatches and holds out his hand for her to take. Her engagement ring clinks against the glass of the table, a huge ninety five thousand dollar rock she didn’t even have to ask for. He saw it bookmarked on her computer and bought it, no questions asked and sight unseen. 

Rey remembers how he proposed, on a Parisian rooftop he has the luxury of using in his building.

* * *

_The Eiffel Tower glints in the distance, lit up with what seems to be millions of little lights against the dark of the sky. As if that weren’t enough, two spotlights train on the monument. She matches it in a tight white bandage dress, looking ethereal in the low lighting._

_Rey has been to Paris, plenty. But she’s never been to Paris like this, not with an unreasonable bottle of Dom Perignon and nothing at all to celebrate but Ben being in love with her enough to show her this place._

_“I come up here and sketch sometimes. When I’m here.” His voice comes from behind her and she doesn’t turn, holding the bottle of champagne and taking a swig as she watches the skyline. The bubbles pop and fizz in her throat but she’s used to feeling uncomfortable in her throat at this point._

_She eventually responds, “Seems like a great place to do that.”_

_“Would you like to be on the deed?”_

_She is mid-raise of the bottle when he says it, and it nearly drops from her hand in shock. Catching it deftly, she whirls around._

_He’s on one knee, blue velvet box looking near black in the lowlight. It pops open easily to reveal a huge rock that rivals all the other wimpy rings she’s essentially bought and paid for._

_This is a ring she didn’t see come across her bank statement, or get a text from her credit card about. This is a ring that has blindsided her._

_And simultaneously blinded her. “I’m thinking Rey Solo-Palpatine will look nice on deed papers.”_

_Only one word flies past ruby red lips, left hand thrusting out like a little girl._

_“Yes.”_

* * *

He stares at her. 

“I know this is stressful.”

She nods.

“I know you’re exhausted after planning your other four weddings.” 

She nods again, wanting to pour more tea. It’s decaf after all. 

“But this is us. And it matters to me that you make your opinion loud and clear.”

She sighs heavily and brushes her hair out of her face. Rey, ever since getting rich overnight, has been awful at making essential decisions. She gets paralyzed by money somehow, about how this could all vanish. 

Realistically it won’t. She’s invested in so many endeavours and on the board of so many companies that there’s no way all of this could vanish. She’s not even sure of the scope of her own wealth, struggling to get access into a Swiss bank account even after six years. There’s no telling the sum of that.

She nods, and he lets go of her hand to drop heavy on the table. “I’m headed off to take a shower. I want you to start thinking about venues. Anything.” 

She bites her lip, “Can I come with you? To shower.”

He looks at her like she’s crazy. “Why would I refuse? Come on, sweetheart.” He holds out his hand again and she takes it, letting him yank her up and under his arm. His staircase is double wide so they can walk abreast, and she takes it at his speed due to the Rothys on her feet. 

The hem of her linen wrap dress brushes against the backs of her thighs, silk and light polka-dotted with a green backdrop. She tries to switch over her thinking into a venue realm. She’s had a beach wedding, a country club wedding, an urban wedding, and even a ranch wedding. There are no other places to have a wedding, in her mind.

They both glide into the bathroom, where he lets go of her to turn on the shower. She unties the dress and lets it drop off her shoulders, shuffling off her flats. Stark naked, love bites from the night prior sit on her hips.

Where hasn’t Rey been before? They could do destination nuptials, but Ben wants his dad to be able to come and not have to fly more than seven hours with his heart condition. Not to mention his mother, who had a health scare on a diplomatic flight to Dubai that not even her service dog could detect. All was resolved, both parents fine, but it scared both her and Ben so badly that they decided against staying at their place for both holidays that year. 

She hums in thought to herself as Ben strips down, eyes watching his muscles ripple and contract as he gets down to nothing. The rainfall shower is already creating steam that fogs the mirrors and prevents her from staring too hard at herself. 

Ben opens up the shower door and clears his throat. She takes that as a signal to head in, stepping into the spray and letting it fully wet her hair as she takes out the elastic ties and bobby pins to put in the dish at the corner of the shower bench. It’s got a place to put her ring as well, out of the spray. She slides off the heavy three stone, six carats combined engagement ring and lets it clatter into the dish. She’s careless with jewelry.

Ben shuts the shower door, trapping them in the steam and confining her with him in the huge shower.

He’s soaping up his body when she looks back from the bench, watching him scrub over the scarring in his chest and stomach. He has a loofah on a stick to get his back, always into a deep clean that seems to melt his bad moods for a solid five minutes. His biceps drip in soap, and he holds out the heavy and full bottle of coconut body wash that is designated as hers. She suspects he got tired of them smelling the same.

She uncaps it and dumps some in her palm, gracelessly smacking the soap across her chest and letting it run down her torso. Her palms come close to slipping over her breasts, until his hand smacks hers away and rubs the soap across her wet skin.

His thumb and forefinger linger to tweak a nipple, getting her to slightly jump towards him and deeper into the Lion’s den of Ben. “Sit on that bench and keep thinking. Let me do this.”

She walks backwards and sits heavily on the shower bench, Ben following her to rub soap on her body.

God, what is a place she’d want her final nuptials to be? Because this is it. She’s staying with Ben, even when things get bad or when he inevitably begins to hate her and living with her. 

Ben is constantly patient with her, given he can be much more monstrous.

* * *

_“I cannot fucking believe you! How you were looking at that stupid fucking waitress! God she fucking_ **_grinned_ ** _at you like some kind of whore.”_

_Rey slams her Saint Laurent purse on his hallway bench, kicking off her heels and storming in while he sulks behind her. The Aries is out to play, a fighting spirit that makes men run for the hills. Sometimes unchecked jealousy comes with it, an unfortunate party guest that tends to ruin more than aid._

_Ben is silent as she rants, “It was like I was invisible! Not to mention how that new fucking bride stared at you when I walked into your office, like I wasn’t good enough. Fuck!” She throws her watch off, a rose gold Breitling. She’s about to rip her lemon colored puff sleeve cocktail dress off as well, anger boiling her blood and body to near sweltering. Sweat beads on the back of her neck._

_“Are you finished?”_

_She whirls around and snarls, “Finished? You haven’t said anything!”_

_He calmly, too even for how he should be, replies, “I was waiting for you to finish. You have been going for about twenty-five minutes.”_

_Rey growls, but crosses her arms over her chest and practically baits him, “Go ahead. Tell me how irrational I am.”_

_He snorts, “I don’t think you’re being irrational, you’re well within your right to be upset.”_

_That stops her short, never having someone verify that she’s allowed to be upset at a tense moment. He continues, “I do not control how women look at me. I wish I could, given they aren’t you. I don’t want anyone but you.”_

_She lifts her chin, trying to be a big girl and trying to intimidate. It seldom works, given he treads closer. “We don’t have to go to that restaurant anymore. That’s fine, the food was blah anyway. But I will never be able to control wandering eye brides. That much is evident with you and Kazuda.”_

_He never brings up Kazuda unless to prove a solid point about her past operations. She bites her lip at the mention, like a scared little kid without a safety blanket. Things do need to change, on her end and also Ben’s end._

_“It’s okay. I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise.”_

* * *

Soap slicks across her thighs, and she sighs heavily while leaning against the tile wall. Couples therapy, and regular therapy, have done wonders for her. Sitting on a cushy couch for two hours every month seems to clear her mind. It gives her monthly homework in emotional literacy, on how to healthily love without clinging for too long.

It’s teaching her how to let go of people when they need to be let go of. “You know, you’re gorgeous.”

That gets a blush to pop onto her cheeks, and she looks up as Ben looms over her. He goes on, “So gorgeous that I just have to-“

He kneels down, and her brows raise. Especially as he yanks her to the edge of the bench, nearly hanging off it. He reaches down and parts her closed thighs with a hand, a gentle nudging that her body immediately responds to without another thought. 

Then his head ducks right at the apex, and she can’t push out another thought before his lips latch onto her. His tongue runs up her pussy as he kisses and sucks obscenely, starting a slow tease.

“B-Ben.” 

He manages, “Keep thinking. You don’t get to come until you give me an answer.”

He knows that orgasm denial will always rush a quick decision out of her, and she figures she should be a doll for him and milk it as much as she can. Settling a hand on the back of his head, she cards through his soaking wet tresses.

To fuck with him, “Is that a grey hair I see?” 

He licks harder to get back at her and she giggles in pure bliss, trying to refocus her brain on what she’s been told to think of. A venue, somewhere that will start the rest of her life.

There’s nowhere to reasonably start. She wants his parents there, but she’s done every sort of regional type wedding. Coastal, in the plains, urban, a country club in Arizona of all places. 

She wants different, unique. His tongue dips into her and she whines a little, tugging on his hair and pulling him even closer and deeper. She likes to suffocate him down there, make him gasp for air. “Focus on my clit.”

His hand comes up and he rubs circles into the little nub, pushing delicately. It’s rapture, and her eyes flutter shut.

“There you go princess.”

Princess.

She wants to feel like a princess, right? 

Who creates the most fictional princesses in their current media landscape? What VHS tapes did the foster home have, all the way in England? The temporary home, the one that Rey adored for a few short months before being ripped back to Morocco. 

Disney.

He’s sucking and slurping, obscene noises rivaling her own loud moans. 

It’s building and bubbling out of her throat before she can stop it. 

“Disney. I want to get married at Disney.”

**Author's Note:**

> wow. yeah i like these two a lot.
> 
> thoughts and feelings welcome at [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah)
> 
> work title is inspired by [”WAP” by Megan Thee Stallion, and Cardi B](https://open.spotify.com/track/4Oun2ylbjFKMPTiaSbbCih?si=vGbnkzbCQPSwo6Npkd4AKA)
> 
> chapter title is inspired by [”the last great american dynasty” by taylor swift](https://open.spotify.com/track/2Eeur20xVqfUoM3Q7EFPFt?si=jgGXXLzbS6y-OqEJxM14Bg)
> 
> [Hamptons bridal gown](https://www.kleinfeldbridal.com/product/hayley-paige-strapless-sweetheart-neckline-ball-gown-tulle-wedding-dress-loretta/)  
> [electric blue louboutins](https://theluxurycloset.com/women/christian-louboutin-blue-suede-pointed-toe-pumps-size-39-p208875?cur=USD&gclid=CjwKCAjwwab7BRBAEiwAapqpTCyorcoqKynMUdh7uIUbs241xmUzVMcNNkVX06TDnYhcKpLrFMoCSBoCEs0QAvD_BwE)  
> [red cocktail dress](https://www.houseofcb.com/sirene-red-gathered-organza-mesh-dress-us.html)  
> [Ben’s louboutins](https://www.ssense.com/en-us/men/product/christian-louboutin/black-greggo-oxfords/5350481?gclid=CjwKCAjwwab7BRBAEiwAapqpTBHUoizuTpBeXsYP-iiVY9G05PM1ly_kEU2Noynz2pypYWo_y5D3axoCGaAQAvD_BwE)  
> [nude louboutins](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/christian-louboutin-apostrophy-pointed-red-sole-pump-prod192130090?utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku169170892&sc_intid=sku169170892&ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&gclid=CjwKCAjwwab7BRBAEiwAapqpTFbQCVHaXLY7s1NIo6WUi6_UYumA6_dv0u1itrzPS-7cJWJiEg9VzhoCIUwQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds)  
> [green wrap dress](https://www.thereformation.com/products/brianne-dress?color=Annie&via=Z2lkOi8vcmVmb3JtYXRpb24td2VibGluYy9Xb3JrYXJlYTo6Q2F0YWxvZzo6Q2F0ZWdvcnkvNWE2YWRmZDJmOTJlYTExNmNmMDRlOWM2)  
> [the engagement ring (hello six carats how are you doing)](https://www.victorbarbone.com/collections/vintage-engagement-rings/products/4-5-carat-three-stone-engagement-ring)  
> [proposal dress](https://www.houseofcb.com/belice-white-tie-waist-bandage-dress-us.html)  
> [yellow puff sleeve dress](https://www.houseofcb.com/aida-lemon-puff-sleeve-corset-dress-us.html)  
> [nude rothys](https://rothys.com/products/the-point-ecru)


End file.
